


Said I Had a Dirty Mouth

by xofabulous



Category: Best Song Ever - One Direction (Music Video), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Based on a One Direction Song, M/M, Top!Harry, bottom!Zayn, dressed in drag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3840394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xofabulous/pseuds/xofabulous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry doesn't know what to do while everyone is busy...until Zayn walks in in drag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Said I Had a Dirty Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this little slice of toppy!Harry because he absolutely loves Zayn in drag. This is completely inspired by the look Harry gives Zayn at the beginning of the video. :)

Harry was bored out of his mind, sitting on the dingy couch, feeling a little off and cranky because everyone else is in various states of makeup, Liam is busy on a skype call, and he is basically sitting down on his ass waiting…waiting. Harry hates to wait. And then Zayn comes out…dressed—dressed like _like that_ and Harry is instantly hard, aching in his pants, and all he wants to do right now are things he is sure would burn. Fuck, it would burn. Not to mention, Harry thinks Zayn is shy in this getup. Sure he’s never worn anything like that in his entire life and Harry fucking loves it.

He gets up, stalking over, out of his costume for a moment because they’re going to shoot Zayn coming in to alert the executives of ‘One Direction’ waiting for their big ‘meeting’. Though, they couldn’t get a move on until the makeup was done for Niall and Louis. So that leaves Harry moving across the room to eye Zayn. “You look unbelievably—”

“—stupid, mate,” Zayn cuts in, “I know…believe me I never thought I’d see the day I’d be looking like a cheap slag.” He’s picking at his shirt, trying to fix it but only ends up making Harry stare even harder. 

Smirking, he puts his hands down on Zayn’s skirt-clad hips, drawing him closer. “I think I’d offer you a dollar for a peep up that skirt, love. You game to give me a show?” Harry licks his lips. He almost laughs at the look Zayn gives him, probably of disbelief. 

“Yeah, right. Fuck off, Harry. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Zayn is damn sure Harry’s never fucked anything in his life, no doubt he’s the one squirming around on someone’s cock and loving it. Not standing there in front of him, digging his fingers into his hips, pressed tight in the most uncomfortable garment he’s ever worn in his life. 

Harry comes in close and catches Zayn’s bottom lip, drawing it between his teeth, giving a sharp nip before letting go. “I guess I’ll have to show you then, yeah? Go lock the door, then I want you back here, and I’m going to bend you over this desk and I’m going to fuck you raw.” He raises an eyebrow and puts his hands on his hips. 

And Zayn can’t fucking believe it. Everyone knows Harry is the biggest tease—not just a cock tease—but thee biggest tease on the planet, but he’d never heard those words or anything remotely demanding from the younger Brit before. Unsure what to do, Zayn follows orders and locks the door. He’d hate to admit it, but he is hard as a rock and the skirt isn’t about to tell a lie, he’s more than sure Harry can see it from where he’s standing. Walking back over, Zayn pauses just short of Harry and the aforementioned desk, hands trembling because—because he is nervous. _Harry_ is making him nervous… Harry for god’s sake. “I am just going to say I never thought you were the type.” 

The smirk that spreads over Harry’s face could be debated to be either angelic or demonic, either way he’ll take it. “And I never thought I’d see you in drag, but we’re all full of surprises. Now, put your hands on the desk and stick that tiny ass out,” Harry commands, voice getting deeper as Zayn does as asked without question. Once in place, Harry closes his eyes as he stands behind, running his hands up and down the older singer’s spine, watching as it arches up to his caress. Biting on his bottom lip, Harry reaches far down, hauling up the pencil skirt so he can see that pert ass. “No underwear, you really are a whore, aren’t you?” 

“What?” Zayn breathes as he turns his head. “Did you just—did you…fuck!” Zayn cries out, squirming as Harry’s large hand falls to his pale cheek, knees knocking into the wooden desk. Jesus Christ he’d never thought the boy had it in him. His cock was drooling buckets at the surprise. He can’t believe it, this new side of Harry was turning him on. No doubt, he’d heard talk of Harry and Louis fucking at the hotels between shows, when Louis is drunk and missing his girl—whatever that means, Zayn doesn’t believe it—but he’d mistake the boy for a bottom, not this demanding….sexy thing standing behind him. Looking back at Harry, Zayn licks his lips, feeling devilish himself and seeing if he can push. “That all you got, Styles? You stumped now, darling? It’s okay, I can still fuck you with this skirt on.” 

Reaching his hand down, Harry grabs onto either side of Zayn’s cheeks, pressing in tight and squishing his lips. He spits…right into that smart mouth, smirking at the shock and absolutely raw lust sparkling across Zayn’s iris’. “I don’t think so, turn your head around and be a good girl,” he licks his lips, “I want to see your pussy.” Harry snaps the straps holding up the tan colored panty hose Zayn is wearing to the garter belt. He cant wait to grab it and hold onto it. 

Zayn drops his head, moaning against the wood, hands still palm flat against the top, sweating. He swallows down a noise of pure want. Whatever has gotten into Harry has got to stay because he’s never in his life been treated this way and he likes it…he _likes it_. “Want you to see it too, want you to fuck me…” He chews on his lips, hoping he hasn’t pushed too far. Harry isn’t touching him anymore and now he’s scared. He’s about to turn his head when another smack lands on his left cheek, followed by cool, wet fingers sliding up and down his crack. “Oh fuck.” 

Harry watches in awe as Zayn’s ass all but swallows two fingers. He’s so damn _tight_ , groaning, he continues to watch, pushing his fingers in and out, other hand reaching in between and gently stroking his friend’s leaking cock. “Feel good, baby? I can’t wait to stretch you open, can tell you don’t do this often, makes me so hard thinking about it…you in this skirt, Z…it’s making me crazy.” He leans down and bites on one pale cheek, adding a third finger because Harry can’t wait. He hopes Zayn is ready. 

“…feels so good, Harry…please, please I want more.” And he’s begging, Zayn is sure he’d never actually _begged_ for anything in his life, but Harry is so good with those fingers and that air of confidence is getting to him, making him feel all kinds of things Zayn isn’t ready to think about but all he wants right now is Harry inside him. 

Spitting on Zayn’s hole for extra measure, Harry stands up and shoves his jeans down and off, kicking them out of the way. He reaches under them and begins unbuttoning Zayn’s shirt, pulling off the ridiculous blue top and shivers at the sight of the bra, hands moving up and all but shaking at the feeling of fake silicone. “Jesus…this—all of this stays on.” The only thing he takes off is the wig and the cap, grabbing onto Zayn’s messy hair and giving it a tug. “You’re so sexy, baby. You look so good like this…are you ready for me?” He takes his cock and teases it against Zayn’s hole. 

“Yeah…yeah,” Zayn pants, gasping at the tug on his head, arching him back and sticking his ass further out against Harry. When he feels him—really feels him, Zayn closes his eyes, clenching down hard on his length. It had been awhile since he allowed someone to fuck him, not liking the idea of giving up control, but there was an undeniable need to give everything to Harry. Swallowing thickly, Zayn lets out a gasp, nails curling against the edge of the wood as Harry draws out; his entire body clings, trying to hold onto his cock as it pulls out. When he slams back in, Zayn cries out, an almost sob. “Fuck, Harry…” 

Harry is on top of the world. Zayn is shaking beneath him and he feels fucking amazing. Harry doesn’t know why he never does this, the handful of times he’d fucked Louis doesn’t amount to the unreal feeling of being inside the only Zayn Malik. There is a dark and mysterious air about him, the way he looks at you and tries to reach into your soul, and Harry finally knows why all their female fans freak out about him…but now Harry has it. And hell if he’s ever going to let it go. 

He’s pumping into him hard, watching in amazement at the way Zayn’s ass takes the abuse, hands pulling and prying apart his cheeks, unable to look away at the way their skin slaps together. The younger singer stops for a moment or he’s going to come, he doesn’t want to end it on this note, he wants to keep going. Pulling away, Harry smiles at the almost wounded sound coming from the older boy’s lips. “Turn over,” he says roughly. Once Zayn complies and his body isn’t so much in a frenzy, Harry comes back over. “Put me back inside you.” 

Zayn grabs a hold of Harry’s cock, watching him intently as he hooks his legs over the bends in his arms. Eyes locked, Zayn arches up and whines—yes, _whines_ as the younger singer glides back in like he’d never left. And it feels so…fucking good. Head falling back, Zayn’s body shakes as he tries to keep upright, elbows trembling on the wooden table. Finally, he gives up and lays back, body arching. “Harry, I’m so fucking close…holy shit, don’t stop…don’t stop,” he chants, white knuckle and curled over the edge of the desk as he takes the deep thrusts, fast and quick, feeling so much like he’s out of his own body. He doesn’t want to stop feeling like this, finally getting it from the other end, and goddamn it he’s going to be addicted. Harry is going to be his drug. 

“Not going too,” Harry breathes, “not until you come apart…till you can’t fucking move, and when I’m done I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this…I want to be the only one that gets this side of you,” Harry whispers, “please.” 

And that’s all it takes for Zayn to come, hearing that last _please_ , thighs shaking. His head bangs against the desk, insides quaking around Harry as the thrusts get sharper, impossibly deeper, and when he feels like he can’t take it much longer…he feels his body sparkle back to life, as if electricity is running through him. Eyes opening, Zayn lifts his head up and catches Harry staring, his golden eyes filling with water. “Harry…Harry fuck—please…” He reaches down with one hand, holding onto his own thigh, trying to get his body to stop quaking. “K-Kiss me.” And Harry complies, all tongue and biting lips, trying to get more, even as Zayn comes for a second and final time, Harry’s hands bruising tight on his hips and the belt holding up his pantyhose. He knows there’s going to be bruises there, he doesn’t care…he loves it. 

When Harry comes…he’s watching Zayn’s every reaction, the way he’s below him, looking the most debauched angel…Harry feels on top of the world knowing it was him that did it…not someone else. Head falling down to the older boy’s shoulder, he catches his breath for a few moments, panting. 

As he gathers himself, Harry helps Zayn up, passing him the shirt and trying to help him be presentable but there’s almost an idiotic smile on his lips as he hands him the wig. “You’re amazing,” he breaths, biting at Zayn’s jaw. 

Zayn is still feeling thrown off, but now there’s a mad panic to dress up before anyone gets there and catches them. He manages to right his costume and turns to stare at Harry casually leaning against the desk, ankles crossed. “Tonight…tonight, Harry, it’s my turn.” 

“Oh yeah?” Harry licks his lips. 

“Yeah,” Zayn answers just as the door opens and the rest of One Direction pile in.


End file.
